


Backdoor

by jublke



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adam Milligan is a Winchester, Adam needs hugs always, Alternate Universe, Brotherly Love, Chick-Flick Moments, Crack Treated Seriously, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Crack, Gen, I Love Gabriel (Supernatural), One Shot, Post-Hell, Post-Hell Sam Winchester, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Has Issues, Schmoop, Sharing a Body, post-hell trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 13:44:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15664374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jublke/pseuds/jublke
Summary: Remember that wall in Sam’s mind? What if it had a backdoor to Hell?





	Backdoor

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fanfiction. I own none of this. 
> 
> To comply with canon, I think you’d have to set this somewhere in the bunker years, post-Gadreel but before late Season 13. Any errors are mine.
> 
> One-shot for now. If you have any ideas on where I might take this, let me know in the comments!

“What’s going on with you, huh? I know something’s up, Sam. You’ve been acting even weirder than normal lately. Did you think I wouldn’t notice when you ordered hot chocolate and pancakes for breakfast? If that’s not a sign of the second apocalypse, I dunno what is.” Dean glared at his brother from the driver’s seat of the Impala. “We said we weren’t gonna keep secrets from each other anymore!”

Sam snorted as he rubbed the bags under his eyes. “Yeah, like that’s ever gonna happen,” he mumbled, eyes widening as he realized that he’d spoken the words aloud. Sam quickly turned away from Dean’s narrowed gaze and busied himself looking out the window at the passing scenery. America’s heartland. Miles and miles of cornfields.

The car abruptly decelerated.

Sam turned back to see the tense set of his brother’s jaw. He could hear Dean’s mandibular joints pop when his brother spoke next. “You talked in your sleep last night.”

A shudder rippled through the younger man. “I did?” Sam squeaked.

“Yep.” The car slowed further. “Whole damn conversation with yourself. Mumbling back and forth...” Dean eyed Sam and threw down the last card. “About Hell.”

The car began to shake and Sam belatedly realized that it was his twitchiness causing the rocking. The ringing in his ears grew louder. He felt the car vibrate more as Dean steered the Impala onto the rumble strips on the shoulder. His brother threw the gearshift into park with a clunk. Everything went silent.

Sam ran his hands up and down his arms in a self-soothing gesture. “Dean’s gonna kill us,” he whispered. Then, in a hiss, “Shut up!”

Dean’s hand touched the crook of Sam’s elbow and his brother jerked away. “Sammy?” It was the voice Dean used to calm small children.

“Hi Dean,” Sam answered, his voice high and thready. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I was just... ah...”

Dean cocked an eyebrow. His hand darted out to touch Sam’s forehead. “What the hell is up with you?”

A hysterical giggle burst out of Sam.

“Christo,” Dean muttered, to no effect. He grabbed Sam’s wrist, feeling for the pulse point. “You takin’ drugs or doing demon blood again or somethin’?” He checked the larger artery of Sam’s neck, calloused fingers detecting a rapid heartbeat there as well.

“Something,” Sam muttered, shoving Dean’s hand away. He rubbed his eyes again, sounding contrite when he spoke next. “I haven’t been sleeping well,” he admitted, an odd giggle punctuating the end of that statement.

“Ri-i-ght,” Dean replied, stretching out the short word. “That’s why you’ve been in bed for two days straight.” He exited the car and reappeared in the backseat, riffling through the duffel bags stored there.

“Whatcha doin’?” Sam had one elbow over the edge of the front bench seat, peering at Dean in the back.

“Looking for hex bags,” Dean replied.

“No-“ The word was cut off by Sam clamping a hand over his own mouth. “It doesn’t matter,” he hissed. Then, “Sorry,” to Dean, with a shrug.

A cold circle of steel pressed against Sam’s temple as Dean held his handgun to the other man’s head. “Who are you, and what have you done to my brother?”

Sam gave an unearthly shriek and a tear rolled down his face. “Shhh,” he whispered. “Let me handle this.”

Dean cocked the gun with a click. “Start talkin’,” he ordered, voice low and deadly.

“Dean, I know this is going to sound strange...”

“Uh huh.” He poked the gun at Sam’s temple for emphasis.

“I’m sharing my body with Gabriel and Adam.”

Dean blinked rapidly. “Say what now?” He lowered the gun, clicking the safety back on.

“You heard me...Heya Deano!” Sam’s features contorted into a smirk. “Got any lollipops on ya?”

Dean cocked his head at the other man and clicked the safety off again.

Not-Sam chuckled nervously. “Well, it’s like this, see. I don’t have a corporeal body as of yet. Haven’t found enough of my grace to pull that beauty back together. But I did manage to sneak into Hell and grab the best of Adam from the cage for ya.”

Sam’s face softened. “Hi Dean.”

“I need a drink,” Dean muttered. He clicked the safety back on, tucked his gun into his waistband at the small of his back, and washed a hand down his face.

“You know how there’s a wall in my mind, separating me from Hell?” Sam’s intonation now. “Gabriel found a backdoor and slipped through with Adam’s soul.”

Dean swallowed. “I thought your time with Gadreel healed that.”

Sam looked away, guilt clearly painted across his features.

Dean shook his head with an expression that clearly conveyed you’ve-gotta-be-kidding-me. “Damn it, Sam! Let me get this straight. You have a wall in your mind to keep Hell out, but it has a door?”

Sam nodded. “A backdoor. Kinda like when Charlie showed us how to hack into computer databases undetected...” Sam’s face slid into a lazy grin. “It’s usually locked but I had just enough Archangel mojo left to power on through.”

Dean paled. “Right.” The older hunter cleared his throat to buy himself some time to keep up with this conversation. “And now you are voluntarily sharing your body with a missing Archangel and our youngest brother?”

“Yep...Just my soul...And we’re having a few problems...Not having a body, for one!...Shut up, short stack, would you rather I’d left you down there?...Guys, please,” Sam rubbed his temples and closed his eyes.

When he opened them, Dean fixed Sam with a grimace. “And it’s like that in there-“ he gestured at Sam’s head by waving his hands in circles, “-all the time?”

Sam nodded. “That’s why I’ve been sleeping so much. It’s not restful, but it’s easier for us to talk, to try to figure out where to go from here.” He gestured at the world outside, long fingers tapping a rhythm on the dashboard. “It’s harder to interact when I’m conscious. My body isn’t used to this...You can say that again!...Shut up, Gabriel!...and unfortunately, I’m not in charge of my own body. Whoever feels the strongest emotions tends to take over...So, if Gabriel didn’t have a big, fat head...Hey, nice language, short stack. You’re talking to an Archangel here!...An Archangel with clipped wings!...Maybe you’d rather I just left your ass down there with Lucifer, huh?...No, I’m sorry...S’okay, Adam, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Can I talk to my brother now?” Dean growled.

“Which one?” Sam piped in an artificially high voice. “The Moose,” was mumbled under his breath.

“Sam, you’d better still be in there.”

“Hey, Dean, yeah, sorry.” Sam ran his fingers through his hair and yawned.

“God, no wonder you’re so messed up. How’d they get into your head in the first place? You have to give consent, right? Can’t you just kick ‘em out?”

“I heard that, Dean!”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Adam,” Dean growled. At Sam’s stricken face, he added in a softer tone, “I’m glad you’re okay, kiddo. Just give me a minute alone here with Sam.” He ran a hand down his face. “This is so weird.”

Sam laughed, a nice, natural - albeit infrequent - Sammy laugh. “You’re telling me. As for your question, they came to me in a dream three nights ago and I agreed to take them in.” At the shake of Dean’s head, he continued, “I had to, Dean. They had nowhere else to go. Gabriel was too weak to climb back out of Hell the way he came down, and Adam,” Sam swallowed and shook his head. He began to cry.

Dean reached a hand out. “Sam.” A head shake. “Adam.” At the nod, Dean sighed and drew the other man into his arms. He rubbed Sam’s back and tousled his hair, aware that Adam was the one feeling the gestures right now. “I’m sorry we weren’t there for you, little brother,” he whispered, voice rough. “Not a day went by that I didn’t feel guilty for leaving you down there.”

A sniff. “I know.”

Dean patted his brother awkwardly on the back. “Alright, Adam. We can chick flick later. Sam and I gotta figure out how to get you outta there.”

“Safely,” the younger man clarified.

“Yeah, yeah, safely. Lemme talk to Sam again, okay?”

Once Dean saw Sam’s posture return, he said, “We need to figure this shit out.”

Sam nodded. “Okay. I’m...” he paused, long enough that Dean wondered who would be in charge when he spoke next. But the vocal inflection was all Sam. “I’m sorry, Dean. I should have told you sooner. I knew you’d be mad and I thought that we could figure something out on our own. But Gabriel’s so weak he’s barely here...I heard that, Sasquatch...and Adam...” Sam paused again. “He needs me right now, Dean. It’s...” Sam tucked his hair behind his ears. “It’s healing, to be this close to someone after the cage...Intimacy, Sambo, you can say the words. It’s emotionally intimate.”

Dean watched his brother - Sam, the baby he’d raised from infancy - fighting back tears of his own. “Gabriel’s right. I felt so alone after the cage and I know how isolated Adam feels. Having them both in here,” Sam tapped his temple, “helps all of us. Gabriel doesn’t have to expend energy trying to take a solid form. And Adam and I feel more connected, more human.”

Dean swallowed. “You sayin’ you wanna stay all _Man With Two Brains_?”

Sam laughed - and Dean could detect echoes of the other two chuckling as well. “God, no. But it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

Dean exhaled and felt some of the tension leave his body. “Well, okay then. We need to find me some dream root and sort this mess out.” He gave Sam a manic smile. “I’m goin’ in.”

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: Multiple personality disorder, and the extreme trauma and suffering that can cause this type of severe dissociation, is nothing to joke about. That was not my intent here, and I certainly hope this piece doesn’t read that way.
> 
> Frankly, it bothers me that Adam might still be in Hell. I miss Gabriel, and I think every character on Supernatural could use more comfort. Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
